


Nefarious 19

by Two_Guns_And_A_Knife



Category: Stephanie Plum - Janet Evanovich
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-11
Updated: 2013-02-24
Packaged: 2017-11-14 00:35:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 26
Words: 10,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/509444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Two_Guns_And_A_Knife/pseuds/Two_Guns_And_A_Knife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A dark and unpleasant story of an unpleasant stupid woman's inner struggles and conflicts and of an unpleasant hairy man's death. Somehow there is a happy ending/Babe HEA. Theme Songs: Judas by Lady Gaga and Firework by Katy Perry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. New Moon On Monday

**New Moon On Monday**

I killed him.

Slowly my anger ebbs. But no one, not even God, can undo what I have done in cold murderous rage.

I blink and take a long calming breath.

Blood is everywhere.

He lies there, forever asleep in death.

His once handsome face freezes in shock and pain.

A green fly appears out of nowhere and lands on his bare furry chest.

The shattered bottle of love potion has soaked through the cheap thin carpet.

The unused condom is still in his hand.

I can't help but laugh.

My ragged, almost silent laughter echos through the air and sounds rough in my ears.

My thirty-three years of life is worse than a joke and a total mess.

My brand new silvery cake knife protrudes from his chest, buried to the hilt.

I thought I was destined to be caught between two lovers and torn between two men.

But Fate decided to intervene and thus forced my hand.

Now there is only one left.

And I desperately hope he hasn't walked away.

My name is Stephanie Plum.

I am not exactly sure why I killed Joe, truth be told.

But I feel no remorse, and no regret.


	2. Don't, Don't You Want Me?

**Don't, Don't You Want Me?  
**

I changed my blood-stained clothes.

I wash my face and hands.

I pack a bag and grab Rex. **  
**

I quietly lock my door and quickly go down the stairs.

I never claim to be the most rational and reasonable woman in the world.

I start my car and head toward nowhere.

I never claim to be smart or brave.

I stop for a red light and chew my lips.

I have killed before, in self-defense.

I fish my second-hand iPhone out of my pocket and stare at it.

But this time I have no excuse for what I did.

I don't want to end up in jail.

There's a dead furry naked man on my apartment floor.

Who's going to take care of poor Rex when I am locked up in a cell?

The dead body won't just go away on its own.

I take a left turn when the traffic light changes.

I wish I can find the Bat Cave and hide in there.

I jump a little as my iPhone rings.

I pull over and almost cry in despair.

I brace myself and answer the call.

"Miss Plum," Hal, the sweet giant of a man, politely says.

"Call me Stephanie." I automatically correct him, once again.

"Um, Miss Plum," I can hear Hal blushing fiercely.

"There's a dead man on your floor." My shaky smile freezes on my face.

"Do you need any help with, um, relocating Detective Morelli?"

I open my mouth but no sound comes out.

I choke on my own silent tears.

My stomach groans like a rabid beast.

"Don't worry, Miss Plum." Gently Hal says. "The clean-up team is already on the way."

There is a god up there somewhere.


	3. Total Eclipse of the Heart

**Total Eclipse of the Heart**

I takes off my shoes before entering the door and place the keys onto the silver plate.

I puts Rex on the spotless kitchen counter and give him a slice of Ranger's apple.

The 7th-floor apartment is so quiet and serene.

I think Rex looks extraordinarily happy and relieved.

Too bad he's not a dog or a cat, I tell myself. I can use a big warm hug right now.

I place my bag on Ranger's couch.

I take off my clothes and take a long, long shower.

The water is comfortably warm.

The scent of Bvlgari is, as always, enchanting.

I wash my hair twice.

I scrub myself squeaky clean.

I have just killed a man.

A man I'd thought would always be a part of my life.

A man I'd thought I would always love and spend a part of the rest of my life with.

But now all of a sudden things have changed.

He was not the man I'd thought he was.

And I am not the old me.

I think of my brand new silvery cake knife.

I think of my fucked-up life.

I think of all the blood on my walls and carpet.

I think of the Vordo Night.

And then I stop thinking about what's happening in my shabby apartment right now.

No, I will not cry. I am Stephanie Plum, the Bounty Hunter from Hell.

I am never famous for being smart or extremely intelligent, but now I think at least I can start to learn.

And maybe I can be strong and tough too, just like Ranger and his Merry Men.

I think of the grin on Joe's face when he took off his clothes and showed me the hot pink bubble gum flavored condom in his hand.

Hot pink.

Bubble gum flavored.

I would fall madly in love with all the little knobs on the surface of the condom. Joe said as his grin deepened.

And I'd never ever felt so cheap in my fucking mess-up life.

Or so angry.


	4. Tell Me Lies, Tell Me Sweet Little Lies

**Tell Me Lies, Tell Me Sweet Little Lies  
**

I bought that silvery cake knife at the Farmer's Market in New York City a lifetime ago.

I was a 20-something pretty woman who dreamed big.

Life was pink and sparkly.

My future was bright and promising.

I was in love with Dickie.

We were going to get married and start our own family.

I had my dream wedding.

Everything changed in a blink.

I never got to use my silvery cake knife.

I can't remember why I took it out of the drawer this morning and placed it on my wobbling coffee table.

I wrap myself in Ranger's towel.

The ultra-expensive, thick, soft towel.

The towel that has once wrapped around his perfect muscular Mocha Latte naked body.

I blush, and maybe moan a little.

Now I smell just like him.

But I will never be as brave, smart and motivated as he is.

I sit down on Ranger's couch and turn on the TV.

I flip through the channels until I find The Rock's **Tooth Fairy**.

I lose myself in the movie.

I almost forget I have just killed a man.

I wonder what I saw in Joe.

I wonder why I was so obsessed with him.

I feel like I was under a curse.

A nasty mean old witch came to my dream every night and whispered in my ears.

And then the next morning I woke up and made all the bad decisions and stupid mistakes.

I look down at my hands and yes, I know I am trying to find an excuse.

I flat-out hate it when people say we only have ourselves to blame.

It can't always be my fault, can it?

I feel the oh so familiar tingle on the back of my neck.

The door silently opens.

The keys drop onto the silver plate.

Ranger looks at me in the eyes and almost smiles.

The hot pink bubble gum flavored condom once again pops up in my mind.

I'm so, so glad I finally had the chance to use my silvery cake knife.


	5. You Might Think...

**You Might Think...  
**

From time to time I see the similarities between Ranger and The Rock.

They are both muscular and strong.

They are both handsome and tough.

They both have smooth dark skin and penetrating eyes.

They can both raise one brow.

They have the same blinding Million Dollar Smile.

And they can be both scary and beautiful at the same time...

My train of thoughts derails.

I let out a sigh and try not to fan myself.

I have just killed a man with my silvery cake knife.

And now I'm already ready to put everything behind me and move on.

Geez.

A drop of tear rolls down my cheek.

Am I cold blooded or what?

I feel no remorse and no regret, and I am really, really hungry now.

"Babe," Ranger wraps me in his arms and softly says.

I hide my face in his perfectly muscled chest.

He kisses me on top of my head.

I feel so warm and so safe.

The doorbell rings.

Ella arrives with a plate of food.

She gives me a bright friendly smile and quietly leaves.

I join Ranger at his table and with grateful tears gobble down the fruit salad, roasted stuffed tomatoes and steamed brown rice.

To Hell with Joe and his little hot pink knobs.

I am still kicking and very much alive.

And I feel much, much better now.

"Hot pink." Ranger says.

I almost spit my tea.

"Bubble gum flavored?" Ranger asks.

My eyes start to twitch.

"And with...knobs." The Big Bad Wolf actually laughs.

And still I love him so, so much.


	6. Que Sera Sera

**Que Sera Sera**

I sometimes wondered how my life will end up.

Will I be famous?

Will I be rich?

Will I be happily married and surrounded by kids?

Will I live long?

Will I die young?

Will I be loved and cherished by the man I love?

Will I be able to tell him I have been in love with him for many, many years?

Or will I end up a slave labour at a Cupcake factory?

Well, I guess the last question is no longer necessary.

I turn off the TV, biting my lip.

I stand up from the couch, taking a deep calming breath.

I take the first tiny step.

I push the unlocked door open.

Bravely I march forward, my heart thumping in my ears.

The familiar divine scent surrounds me, teasing my senses.

Will his love finally come with a ring?

I wrap my arms around him from behind.

Do I really, really need that ring?

I hid my face in his broad muscled naked back.

Warm water flows down, soaking me to the skin.

He's so perfect...maybe too perfect for someone like me.

He leans back against me, his hands grab hold of mine.

I've just killed a man, a man I've known almost all my life, a man I once thought I loved and loved me back.

"Babe," He tenderly says. I know he knows I'm crying.

I've made countless stupid mistakes, bad choices and wrong decisions. Sometimes I can't help feeling cheap and easy.

He turns off the shower. He helps me take off my clothes. He wraps me in his towel. Slowly my tears stop.

I want to be happy.

I want to be free.

I want to be be brave.

I want to be smart.

I want to be pretty.

I want to be loved.

I want to be cherished.

I want to be trusted.

I want to be respected.

I want to be able to be rely on.

I want to take responsibility for my own life.

I want to hold my future in my own hands.

I want to look him in the eyes and tell him I love him and need his love.

But now I just want to lick him dry...

Yum.

Ah, the story of my life.


	7. Domino Dancing

**Domino Dancing**

I am back inside my apartment, wearing the same clothes.

I have blood on my face.

I have blood in my hair.

I am staring at my bloody hands.

And I'm trying not to shake.

No, I am not frightened or scared.

I know I am dreaming.

I know I have just killed a man.

And still I have no remorse and no regret.

"Cupcake." The dead man smiles up at me and croaks, his eyes two pools of blood, his mouth a gaping toothless hole.

I killed him because he thought I was easy.

"Cupcake." He tries to get up but can't. Through his unbeating heart my silvery cake knife pins him to the floor like a butterfly.

I killed him because he made me feel so cheap.

"Cupcake." His chest hair and the hot pink condom glisten in the light. My eyes catch the little knobs.

He knew all along what was going on between me and Ranger.

Still he came to me for balls-to-the-wall wild animal sex like nothing had happened.

Realization hit me like a ton of bricks.

He loved me in his own way, too.

His love came with nothing but a condom, too.

He didn't do stupid things like marriage and babies, either.

He was a calculating mercenary and a manipulating opportunist, too.

But Ranger never ever lies to me.

Never.

But Ranger is always there to catch me when I stumble, trip over my feet and fall.

Always.

And I kept choosing the wrong man.

Sorrow, shame and self-disgust clouded my vision.

Something deep down inside me snapped.

My rage erupted.

I grabbed my cake knife.

I stabbed Morelli many many times.

I took him by surprise.

He didn't have time to react.

He didn't have time to yell.

Just like that he fell back and died.

I blink and laugh.

Or maybe I am crying like a child...

I wake up in Ranger's arms, his husky voice whispering comforting words in my ear.

I'm shaking and bathed in tears.

I may be traumatized but I know the truth has to come out.

"I love you." So I keep telling Ranger over and over again. "I love you."

And I will always love him even if his love won't come with a ring.


	8. Sirius

**Sirius**

I am not a cold-blooded murderer.

I have killed before, in self-defense.

I did what I had to do to stay alive, but still from time to time I feel shame and guilt.

They are dead. And I am alive.

Maybe that's why I never talk back to my mother when she wants me to quit my job and find a man.

Maybe that's why I never think about making myself a better bounty hunter and carrying a loaded gun.

The survivor's guilt, I believe that's what it's called.

Yeah, I am a complicated and confused woman.

I am not extraordinary beautiful or especially smart.

I became the laughing stock of this stupid little town when my first husband cheated on me with the Town Skank.

"Poor Stephanie," They whispered and snickered behind my back, "she fell in love with the wrong man."

My mother looked at me with her pained blue eyes.

My father never looked up once from his mashed potatoes with gravy and perfectly cooked pot roast.

My Grandma wouldn't stop talking about open-casket viewings.

I felt so stupid and lonely.

I fell for the man who took advantage of me sexually TWICE when I was young and, yes, stupid.

I fell for the man who broke in my apartment, cuffed me naked to my shower curtain rod and trashed my things like a shameless thug.

I fell for the hot gooey pizza in his hand.

I fell for his bad boy smile and melted chocolate eyes.

Or maybe I just wanted to brag to the whole world that I tamed Joe Morelli, the Notorious Beast, and made him mine.

Maybe I just wanted to shout at the top of my lungs and let people know I was not a good-for-nothing.

I stick my fork through my pancake. I envision Morelli flowing at the bottom of the sea being nibbled by hundreds of thousands of fish, crabs and shrimps.

I am a terrible person.

I feel no remorse or regrets.

But I am not cheap, brainless or easy.

I wonder how Hal found out about the dead body on my floor.

I wonder what the RangeMan clean-up team did with the naked dead body.

I sneak a peek at Ranger and decide that there are things I don't really want to know.

See? I can be smart if I want to be.

He knows I love him.

He knows I have been in love with him for years.

He said he thought it was best to let me figure it out on my own.

He said he didn't want me to run away screaming like a headless chicken.

Alright, he didn't say "headless chicken".

And no, he didn't make love to me, either.

He just held me in his arms till I calmed down and finally fell asleep.

And when I woke up this morning he was already out of the shower.

I don't want to go back to my apartment.

I'm not afraid of ghosts, really.

But Rex likes it here.

And I haven't got the chance to lick Ranger dry...


	9. Eye In The Sky

**Eye In The Sky  
**

I spend my day inside Ranger's apartment.

I don't have any FTA.

I still have some money in the bank.

I am a terrible liar.

I've kind of moved in with Ranger.

I don't want Connie and Lula to sniff the air around me and say, "How come you smell just like Ranger, Stephanie?" with smirk on their faces.

I don't think I can remain calm and collected when people come asking, "Do you know where Joe is, Stephanie?"

I don't want them to know something is off and fishy when I pale and start to stammer.

I have absolutely no idea where Joe is at this moment, I swear.

But I do know he's no longer alive. I also know who killed him in a fit of blinding rage.

Suddenly I recall the time when he withheld the truth and deliberately made me believe I was the prime suspect of my ex-husband's murder.

I narrow my eyes and clench my fists, my Italian temper roaring like a rabid lion in my ears.

I wish I can use my silver cake knife to stab that lying rat bastard to death again.

He put me in danger and fear so that he could lure the real bad guys out and solve the case.

I so want to dug him out of his block of concrete to kick him in the ribs.

I so want to fish him out of the bottom of the sea or a murky river to knee him in the crotch.

I so want to give myself a head-slap for being such a stupid bitch.

I can't believe I forgave him and let him back in my bed.

I can't believe I had once thought about starting a serious, committed relationship with him.

"Calm down, Stephanie." Sternly I tell my seething self. "Get a grip of yourself. It's all in the past. You are with Ranger now."

My brows draw together as in confusion and excitement I frown.

 _Did I hear it right?_ My heart jumps in my chest.

 _I am with Ranger now?_ I feel a little dazed.

 _Really?_ He did tell me that he knows I love him, but...

 _I am with Ranger now?_ I start hyperventilating.

"Yeah, really." A warm, firm hand settles on the back of my head. A gentle masculine voice whispers in my ear.

"Deep breath, Stephanie." Ranger says. His heavenly scent dances around me in the air.

OMG. I'm with Ranger now.

I close my eyes and faint.

I am with Ranger now...

Yay...


	10. Circle In The Sand

**Circle In The Sand**

I wake up in Ranger's bed. Alone. With my clothes on. Damn.

I sit up, yawn, and set out to find my perfect Mocha Latte man.

Sooner or later the police will ask.

Sooner or later people will know.

Sooner or later my mother will call.

They will look at me funny. They will whisper behind my back.

Everybody will know what I have done but no one will ever have the proof—well, I desperately hope so.

Joe Morelli is dead. Dead. Dead.

Even his Grandma's evil Eye can't bring him back to life.

I honestly have no idea how my mother will think or react.

Will she be appalled that I killed another man?

Will she be relieved that I have finally found myself another man?

Will she find it hard to look at the Morellis in the eyes and say Hi?

Will she get mad and stop making me chocolate chips cookies and pineapple upside-down cakes?

Will she be upset that Ranger and I are living together in sin?

Will she and my father team up and pressure me for grandchildren?

Will my always quiet and seemingly indifferent father tell me he wants to meet his grandson before he dies?

Will my father want to take my son to New York for a stroll in the Central Park and a Yankees game?

Will my father hold little Carlos's hand and buy him ice cream, hot dog and Cracker Jacks?

What if little Carlos, like his father, only eats healthy food?

What if little Carlos, like his father, is a Phillies fan?

What if little Carlos tells me he doesn't like hamsters and he wants a cat?

OMG! My child doesn't like my pet!

What's a mother gonna do?

My head starts spinning. My vision begins to blur. My heartbeat quickens. I stumble and walk head-on into a wall of muscles.

Ranger wraps me in his arms and then silently laughs.

Geez. I hope he's not going to tell me poor Rex won't be around when our son is old enough to want a cat.

He smells so nice. He feels so good. A smile sneaks onto my face as I close my eyes and melt into him..

I never knew I can so deeply love a man.

It's about trust.

It's about care.

It's about faith.

It's about us.

It's about give and take...

And later that night I finally, finally get to lick him dry. Yay..


	11. Emotion In Motion

**Emotion In Motion**

I hope I am the woman he really needs.

I hope I am the woman he truly wants.

I don't know when I started wanting more and more.

I want his body. I want his heart.

I wanted his friendship. I want his love.

My delicious knight in shining black armour.

He alone holds the key to my happiness, love, and heart.

I snuggle closer to Ranger and almost cry.

I've always been afraid that I am an epic failure that will never be good enough.

I've been a disappointment to my mom.

I've been a disappointment to myself.

I can't live with myself if I fail him, too.

I'm not smart enough.

I'm not brave enough.

I'm not exactly heartbreakingly beautiful or drop-dead gorgeous.

I'm never the sexy kitten type.

And I've just killed a man out of unreasonable rage in a fit of violent temper with a cake knife.

I miss my silvery cake knife. I know I will never be able to get it back.

I should've stabbed that rat bastard with the cheap cutting knife I bought in a garage sale last year.

Or was it the year before that?

I place my hand on Ranger's muscled bare chest.

I press my leg against his smooth naked thigh.

I try to think but can't concentrate.

I know he's a busy man.

I know he's had a long day at work.

I know he has to wake up early tomorrow and that he needs his sleep.

However, to know is one thing, to restrain my roaming hand and lips is totally another.

Well, my hand, lips, and tongue, truth be told.

And maybe a little teeth...

Sigh. My life is so complicated.

I'm so, so glad that the man I love with all my soul wakes up in time and decides to make me feel much, much better.

Soon all my fears and worries melt away and disappear.

Tomorrow is another day.

I will wake up in Ranger's arms...and in our bed.

Somewhere out there Joe Morelli's dead decomposing naked hairy body being nibbled by worms or fish.

But frankly, people, I don't give a damn.

Right now I have better things to do, dreams to fulfill, and a life to live.

And nope, I feel no remorse, and no regret.


	12. Sweet Dreams Are Made Of This

**Sweet Dreams Are Made Of This  
**

I can't hole up inside the 7th-floor apartment forever.

I don't want people to get suspicious and link me with Joe Morelli's murde—um, disappearance.

I stop the Cayenne outside the bonds office.

I force a shaky, twisted smile on my face, open the door and put the doughnut box and coffee on Connie's desk.

"OMG, Stephanie!" Both Connie and Lula look at me with widened eyes and squeal like the chipmunks in the Disney cartoon.

"Where have you been?" Lula pays absolutely no attention to the sweet creamy coffee and the heavenly doughnuts.

"Why didn't you answer your phone?" Somehow Connie's mustache actually looks quite cute under the bright morning light.

"Did you hear?" They ask in union. "Joe Morelli eloped with Terry Gilman!"

I blink. I gape. I feel faint. Joe Morelli eloped with Terry Gilman? What the fuck? What the Hell? Am I in the Twilight Zone?

"Terry sold her car and house, cleaned out her bank account and left her mom a note!"

"Terry's fiancé—you know, the big shot mobster from New York City? Marco Whatshisname? He went berserk!"

"Old man Vito got real mad and bust a vein!"

"They said he put a hit on Morelli's head in his hospital bed!"

"Bella put the Eye on Vito and Marco and all their men!"

"They said she also put the Eye on Terry, your Grandma, and probably you!"

Connie and Lula talk non-stop and laugh and giggle like a pair of happy, carefree teenage girls.

I open the doughnut box, grab hold of a Strawberry Delight, and in 2 bites wolf it down.

My life is better than a fairy tale.

Today I woke up naked in Ranger's arms.

We showered together.

Ella made us breakfast.

For once Rex didn't bite me on my finger.

Ranger kissed me on my lips and told me not to get crazy before he headed down to his office.

He's going to meet me here at noon and take me back to my apartment to pack my stuff.

Hal blushed and smiled shyly when I ran into him in the garage. As if nothing has happened..

The RangeMan clean-up team know what they are doing.

No body. No murder.

They are all loyal to Ranger.

And Joe Morelli, the cocky and ambitious Trenton police detective, had made some enemies over the years.

The countless mobsters he blackmailed or extorted into cooperating.

The people he used, abused, manipulated and trampled on to achieve his goals and get his promotion.

I have nothing to worry about, really.

Ranger will always protect me and keep me safe.

He lends me cars. He offers me help. He's always there to save my ass.

I gulp down the coffee and gobble down a Chocolate Surprise.

He made Eddie Abruzzi killed himself.

I don't really want to know what happened to Terry Gilman. Not right now.

I still have to turn on my cell phone and call my mom...


	13. Sail Away, Sail Away, Sail Away

**Sail Away, Sail Away, Sail Away**

My mother sighs, and sighs again.

Both my eyes start to twitch.

Her unsaid "Why me, Stephanie? Why me?" is shouting right into my ears and driving me crazy.

I just want to throw my phone on the floor and run all the way back to the RangeMan building.

I just want to jump onto the Ranger's heavenly king-size bed and hide under the blanket.

I just want to be her favored child. I just want to make her smile. I just want to make her proud.

I can never forget the fear in her eyes when she ran over that rabbit and saved my life.

So I lied to her about the cello. And pretty much about everything else.

I was too afraid to tell her the truth. I was too afraid to show her my foolishness.

I was too afraid to see the undisguised disappointment and sorrow in her clear blue eyes.

My tear is about to drop. Then I feel the pricking sensation and turn and see Ranger get out of a RangeMan car.

He's clad head to toe in black.

He looks dangerously sexy and sexily dangerous.

And he's mine, mine, MINE.

My heart bursts into a flame of happiness, all my worries and sadness forgotten, and I smile.

Lula frowns and sniffs the air. Connie widens her eyes and does the same.

"OMG! Stephanie!" The two of them excitedly exclaim. "You smell like Ranger!"

"What did I just hear, Stephanie?" My mother asks. "What do they mean that you smell like Ranger? Stephanie? Hello? Are you there?"

"It wasn't my fault." I blink, swallow, and finally say.

My two friends look at me like a pair of hawks.

"Hello, Stephanie? Hello?" My mother keeps saying in my ear. "What do they mean that you smell like Ranger?"

My breath catches in my throat. My stomach does a flip. My head goes blank.

"Babe," Ranger comes through the door and nonchalantly says.

He's mine, mine, all mine, and mine alone.

I turn off my phone. I grab my bag. I give Connie and Lula a little finger wave.

Nothing else matters anymore.

Even if I killed my ex-on-and-off-boyfriend in a fit of cold murderous rage.


	14. Anywhere Is

**Anywhere Is**

The door slides open with a groan.

The air smells cool and clean.

I grab hold of Ranger's black shirt and press into him.

No, there's no hairy decomposing dead man on my living room floor.

Downstairs in the parking lot Joe's navy blue Ford SUV is nowhere to be seen.

My messy silent apartment looks just the same.

No blood. No trace. No anything.

My refrigerator hums. My answering machine blinks. My 86-year-old next door neighbor dances and sings.

I rest my head against Ranger's back. I let out a long held breath.

A patch of sunlight shines down on my couch.

A hint of breeze dances blows through my dusty window.

We stand watching the spot where Morelli exhaled his very last breath.

He won't turn into a zombie, will he?

His ghost won't come back to haunt me, will it?

I'm not going to Hell for this, am I?

Why is it I don't feel a bit guilty? Why is it I have no remorse?

I bite my lower lip, trying not to panic.

I'm not turning into a cold-blooded heartless murderer, am I?

What price will I pay for this eventually?

Can I still be happy? Can I still be free?

Can I still be loved, protected, and cherished?

Ranger gathers me into his arms, kisses me on top of my head, and says nothing.

He just holds me tight for a long moment.

His silence and warmth comfort me.

He propels me toward my small bedroom.

I think of the night he came here, said "Nice tackle, babe", and then kissed me.

I think of the night he came here, ate a cookie, and made love to me.

I think of the night he came here, got shot, and almost died.

Yes, he is magic.

And I almost lost him.

How different my life would've been had I not been such an idiot and made him tell me to repair my relationship with Morelli.

I slap myself hard on the forehead, moan in pain, and start packing.

Nope. I still don't want to know what exactly happened to Terry and Joe Morelli's furry dead body.

 


	15. Heaven

**Heaven**

I pack my stuff.

I zip my bags.

I cast a look around my bedroom for the very last time.

I can hear Ranger talking softly on his phone outside.

Yes, I know he's a busy man who has a business to run.

Yes, I remember the look in his eyes when he told me "no price".

I now have a new bed.

I now have a new home.

I now have a new life.

I now have the man I love and yay he loves me back.

I will move on, focus on our future, and let go of my messed-up and somewhat hideous past.

But still I wish I can jump in a time machine and go back in time to smack my stupid self on the back of my brainless head.

I can't believe the young foolish me let Joe Morelli take advantage of me sexually twice.

I can't believe the foolish lonely me let him back into my bed after he cuffed me naked to my own shower curtain rod.

He tried to attack me when the police let him out of the meat truck that day in front of a small crowd.

I'd just proved his innocence, for crying out loud. Instead of thanking me he just wanted to smack me around.

And like a hopeless horny idiot I actually wanted to have a relationship with him.

Like a helpless brain-dead moron I actually believed he had become a good decent man who deserved true happiness.

I even thought about quitting my job, settling down with him, cooking his dinner, and popping out little Morellis.

Geez.

Was I blind or retarded or what?

I give an exasperated sigh, decide against slapping myself hard on the forehead again, and pick up my bags.

I stagger out of the bedroom, drop the heavy bags by my crappy couch, and collapse beside my Man in Black.

He raises a perfect brow at me and gathers me closer with one perfect muscled arm.

Yes, he has told me to give him a holler when I finish packing.

But I'm not a fragile delicate red, red rose grown inside a freaking humid stuffy greenhouse.

I can be smart. I can be tough. I can kill a rat bastard in a fit of anger without blinking my clear blue eyes.

Suddenly I wish I had told him "Go ahead and make my day" when he said he could give me a baby if I really wanted one...

My eyes glaze over and I moan a little as the image of me carrying our baby appears in my mind.

We will make the most beautiful babies, I'm sure of that.

They will have Ranger's hair. They will have Ranger's eyes. They will have Ranger's smile.

They will be smart and cute and perfect, just like their father...

But what if one of them has my crazy hair, my not exactly beautiful look, and my pathetic excuse of a brain?

My eyes widen. My heart panics. What if the Bat Sperm is defeated by my imperfect genes?

And why am I fantasizing about having the Bat Babies?

Wait a minute! Babies? I'm going to have babies?

"Yeah, maybe start next year," Nonchalantly Ranger says as he kisses and nibbles me on my neck. "And one at a time."

And just like that he got me all hot and bothered.

Like he always does.

And this time Grandma is not here to interrupt us.

Lucky, lucky me.

Yay...


	16. Send Me An Angel

**Send Me An Angel**

I put on my shoes.

Ranger picks up my bags.

It's very late in the afternoon. I'm most happy and...satisfied.

With the apartment keys in my hand and a smile on my face, I open the door.

And voilà, there my mother stands.

She's wearing a scowl. She's about to knock.

She opens her mouth to speak, and freezes upon seeing Ranger and the bags in his hands.

Yea, I know she has been worried.

Yea, I know she loves me.

Yea, I know she wants me to be happy.

Yea, I know she just wishes I can be as normal as everyone else:

No more blown-up cars. No more dangerous job.

No more getting shot. No more freaks, crazies, nutters and lunatics.

No more gossips, rumours, and weird stories.

No more moving in and out of a man's house. No more living in sin.

She's ready to trade her limbs for my second wedding ring.

She may gladly sell her soul so that I can settle down and pop out kids.

I will have a roof over my head, food on my table, and clothes on my back.

I just have to warm a man's bed.

I just have to smile and nod and say "Yes, dear" and listen to whatever he says.

I just have to cook, to clean, to sew, to iron, and to mend.

As long as I have a bottle of Johnny inside my kitchen cabinet and know when to close my ears and eyes, I shall be fine.

Are you kidding, mom? I've just killed a man, my lucky No. 4, and I feel no remorse, and no regret.

"He had it coming!" is all I have to say.

"We are moving in together, Mrs. Plum." Smoothly Ranger says. His hand at the small of my back, his voice calm and polite.

My mother gasps. Her blue eyes wide and shocked, her shaky hand covering her mouth.

"But I thought...I thought she's...she was with Joseph..."

"Detective Morelli is no longer a part of Stephanie's life. She's with me now."

The warmth of Ranger's hand melts into my back. I feel safe and protected.

The hint of a barely there smile stirs something in my heart.

I'm this close to turn around and kiss him silly. Yeah, right in front of my mother...

"We will move on to the next level when we both feel the time is right—"

OMG! He can read my mother's mind!

OMG! He's talking about "Someday"!

Happiness and surprise swell within me.

My mind pretty much goes blank after that.

I feel like a sleepwalker living a sweetest and softest dream.

We—well, Ranger—say goodbye to my mother.

We lock the door of my old apartment.

We go downstairs and get in the Cayenn.

We drive back to RangeMan.

We take the elevator to the bright, airy, serene, tidy penthouse apartment.

He takes my bags to the closet, ruffles my hair, and goes back down to his office.

And leaves me at the Bat Cave.

And the Bat Cave is forever...


	17. I Ran (So Far Away)

**I Ran (So Far Away)  
**

Marriage.

A choice.

A decision.

A social ritual.

A boring cliché.

A duty.

A burden.

An obligation.

A bondage.

A mere ceremony.

Sometimes it sucks(like Val's).

Sometimes it morphs into a habit, a daily routine(like my parents').

Sometimes it happens when you did something stupid...

He was young and a little drunk, and maybe just a tiny bit lonely.

And Rachel was really, really cute.

But he did the right thing and took the responsibility, while sometimes I still wonder why the hell I married Dickie.

What was I thinking?

Was I stupid or something?

Was I retarded or mentally challenged?

What kind of name is Stephanie Orr, really?

And someday I am going to get married again. This time to my Man of Mystery.

I stare at the shining twinkling beautiful diamond ring.

My eyes start to twitch.

I start to panic.

I know it must be very expensive.

It's the symbol of a promise.

It's the gift from my Batman.

What if I lose it?

What if one day I decide to do the dishes and it falls down the drain?

What if Rex eats it?

What if...what if...

"Babe," The corner of Ranger's lips curl up a bit. "Stop worrying."

I hope he's not silently laughing at me.

I have every right to worry: I'm the magnet of disaster. Weird things always, ALWAYS, happen to me.

I will most definitely cry my heart out if I lose my engagement ring.

The beautiful elegant perfect ring.

The ring Ranger went to New York and chose for me.

The ring Ranger slid onto my finger on Halloween eve.

Ranger cups my face with his large warm hands and holds me captive with his intense dark brown eyes.

Time stops.

Silence falls.

Something sweet and fierce takes hold of my heart and soul.

His force field wraps around me.

"You are not going to lose my ring," Tenderly Ranger kisses me on my lips and softly says. "Frodo Baggins."

I gape like a goldfish.

My Dark Lord laughs.

And then he kisses me again as my shaking hands travel onto his rock-hard abs.

Yay...


	18. Happily Ever After?

**Happily Ever After?  
**

I used to think my life was just like Jersey Shore.

A failed marriage.

An unhealthy relationship.

A mother who liked Jack Daniel and always asked, "Why me?"

A father who was obsessively in love with pot roast, mashed potatoes, and TV.

A not very bright brain.

A not exactly beautiful face and a definitely not perfect body.

All the kinky tacky things I let Joe Morelli do to me.

All the dirty words I let he whisper in my ear and say in public.

All the lies I told.

All the mistakes I made.

All the strange people I met.

All the monkeys I fed.

And then that day I lost my temper and killed a horny smirking Morelli.

My life took a sharp turn and was never the same.

I now live with a cool quiet sexy dangerous man.

I now have a shiny diamond ring on my hand.

My mother takes a look at the ring and then faints.

My Grandma widens her eyes, takes hold of my hand and happily says, "Well, ain't that a pip?"

Val and Albert carry my mother into the house, lay her down on the couch, and then gawk at my ring.

My father takes his eyes off the TV with a small confused frown on his face and asks, "Is dinner ready?"

Angie concentrates on her _New York Times Sunday Crossword Puzzles_.

Lisa giggles.

Peggy Sue wails.

Mary Alice neighs.

My eyes start to twitch.

Ranger places his hand at the small of my back.

He doesn't say a word but still I hear that silent amused "Babe,"

He already knows my whole family is crazy.

Every day Connie and Lula keep asking me when we are going to have the Bat Baby.

Terry Gilman is still missing.

One night I dreamed that Joe Morelli became a zombie.

The clock on the living room wall turns to 5:59. My mother opens her eyes, shoots up from the couch and rushes into the kitchen.

Great, the pot roast won't be too dry tonight.

And next Friday I am going to meet Ranger's family.

Ah, the story of my life.


	19. Caribbean Blue

**Caribbean Blue**

It turns out I am not the only one whose family is a big wild circus.

Babies scream and wail. Children giggle and run. Men talk and curse. Women laugh and yell. Cats hiss and meow.

The enchanting aroma of spicy food and sweet pastries dances seductively in the air.

I smile and chat and eat and try my best to remember everyone's name.

And somehow people keep getting their heads smacked—

Well, expect for Ranger, of course.

Everyone keeps a safe and respectful distance from my beautiful dangerous man.

He happens to be Grandma Rosa's favorite.

She guards us like a hawk and narrows her eyes at whoever tries to sneak close enough to smack him.

And he doesn't even blink when his mother stares at my belly with widened eyes for a full uncomfortable silent minute.

He is the second youngest of of six children. All his siblings are happily married with children.

He has his father's smile.

He has his mother's eyes.

He's taller than his brother-in-laws and his older brother.

He indeed was a beautiful child.

He certainly was one unhappy teenager.

He looked yummy and young in his uniform.

Tons of girls had a crush on him.

He almost likes tres leches cake. He drinks Cuban coffee. He has never been a big fan of Cuban cigars.

Cats and kids and old ladies love him.

He doesn't dance.

Now all his sisters are staring at my belly.

And Ranger doesn't even bother to explain.

Geez.

I hug Grandma Rosa and wave goodbye to Ranger's family with a big happy smile on my face.

They are fun and nice and didn't make me feel like a stranger.

With boxes of leftovers we head back to Trenton.

I was tempted to bring the cute tiny tuxedo cat home with us.

I think of the beautiful little faces of Ranger's nieces and nephews.

Dark brown eyes, silky smooth hair, and caramel skin.

A strange longing swells in my chest.

I swear I can hear an old Grandpa clock ticking.

I look down at my beautiful ring.

I will always remember the touch of Ranger's hands when he slipped it on my finger.

Rough. Warm. Gentle. Solid.

I am a little frightened of myself.

Our life together has been smooth, passionate, and easy.

And somehow I have become greedy.

We are not even married. Now all of a sudden I want to have a child with him immediately.

It must be the weather or something.

It must be my stupid hormone speaking.

But if we are going to start having babies next year, we will have to start trying...NOW?

OMG! My mother is so going to pass out in a dead faint!

Connie and Lula are so going to look at my belly and smirk!

And what if I become a whale like Val?

What if I give birth to the baby but have no milk?

What if the baby has my hair and thinks like me?

What if he has my parking karma and looks like me?

What if everywhere he goes, things blows up?

What if...what if...

I gasp and panic.

And my Batman laughs so hard that he has to pull the car over.

And his laughter makes me all hot and bothered.

Maybe now it's the perfect time I show him what I can do inside the Cayenne...


	20. Wild Child

****Wild Child** **

It is such a beautiful morning.

My mother is all smile and scaringly happy.

She is madly in love with the Harry Winston diamond ring around my finger.

She has already forgotten who Joe Morelli is/was.

I am glad she's so cheerful.

I just wish she can stop planning my married life and naming my kids.

Oh yeah, she want grandkids. Grandsons, actually.

She said she's had enough of little girls screaming, neighing, and throwing fits. And she has always, always, wanted a little boy.

She stops and chats with friends and neighbors.

She deliberately and skillfully draws their attention to my beautiful shining engagement ring.

"He owns and runs a company." Her eyes sparkle.

"He comes from a very respectable Cuban family." Her smile widens.

"Yes, he's Catholic." She adds blissfully. "And the wedding will be held next year."

The moms and grannies clap and cheer. I warn my poor eyes not to twitch.

Music. Food. Flower arrangement. Wedding dress. Invitations. Thank You notes. Useless ugly wedding gifts. And the guest list.

I am now seriously considering eloping.

Just the two of us and a love chapel in Vegas, or under the silver moonlight on a faraway beach.

And the wrath of my mother till the end of time...

Well, at least hunting for the perfect wedding gown will be fun.

The heavenly aroma of freshly fried doughnuts invades my senses.

I moan and turn my head toward the doughnut shelves and see the familiar face of Angie Morelli.

She looks thin and tired. She looks grim and sad. She looks like she hasn't been sleeping well at all.

Icy cold fingers of guilt grasp my heart. Unpleasant memory comes back to me.

I killed her son in a fit of rage and the RangeMan clean-up team helped me get rid of his furry naked dead body.

And now I am going to get married.

And Angie's son will never come back to her—unless he somehow turns into a zombie, that is.

I am a killer. I am a murderer. I should feel terrible. I shouldn't feel happy.

I should pay for what I did.

But did Joe ever pay for what he did to me?

He lied to me, lured me into his father's garage and molested me.

He sweet-talked me, took my virginity and then mercilessly humiliated me.

He broke into my apartment. He scared me to death. He cuffed me naked to my own shower curtain rod. He trashed my things.

He tried to attack me after I proved his innocence and cleared his name.

He never ever apologized to me for any of these.

He actually considered suing me for running him over with Big Blue and breaking his leg.

And Angie Morelli has never said a word about this.

She always looks at me as if it was all my fault and I have my own stupidity to blame for what happened to me.

She has known all along what kind of boy Joe was.

But she never ever feels bad for what he did to me and the other girls.

An eye for an eye. A tooth for a tooth. Payback is a bitch.

Why should I feel bad for her now?

Why should I feel sorry for what I did?

_Because you are a better person, Stephanie._ A little voice in my head whispers in my ear. _And you deserve to be happy._

Angie Morelli pays for her cupcakes and walks out of the store.

She didn't even look at me.

She treated me as if I didn't exist.

"Come on. Stephanie," My mother says happily, "let's get some doughnuts for your father and Val and the kids."

I look into my my mother's eyes.

I see her happiness and love.

I am sorry for Angie Morelli's loss.

But I feel no remorse, and no regret.

I love my mother.

And I am going to marry my Batman.


	21. Book Of Days

**Book Of Days**

Once upon a time I was sweet and innocent. And then shit happened.

Curiosity and ignorance clouded my judgement.

I made bad decisions and wrong choices.

One of my college friends once said with a grim look on her face that I had poor taste in men.

I narrowed my eyes at her, feeling pissed and more than a little hurt, and shrugged her words off as if they were never even spoken.

We soon stopped being friends.

But somewhere deep inside I knew she was right.

All my boyfriends were rat bastards.

They were all tall, lean, and good-looking.

They were all polite, nice, and charming.

They were all the world's master liars.

They could all cheat you blind without blinking or blushing.

I myself am a quality liar.

My eyes never twitch and I never stammer.

But right now as I look into Grandma's pale blue eyes and see that twinkling gleam, I gape and can't say a word.

"Joe's dead, isn't he?"

My bitter dark chocolate coated doughnut has dropped from my suddenly frozen hand.

My eyes are as big as saucers.

I forget how to breathe.

Grandma Mazur pats my hand gently. "Relax, child, your secret is safe with me." Her smile reminds me of Mary Poppins.

I remember the summer days when I was still a little girl.

Grandma and Grandpa would take me to the zoo and the beach and buy me ice cream.

Grandpa was a quiet man. He loved to watch the ocean and the flying seabirds. He had an ugly long scar on his leg.

It's a forget-me-not present from the War.

It's the reason why Grandpa was never a good dancer.

I remember watching them dancing slowly to their own rhythm on Val's wedding.

I remember the way they looked at each other in the eyes and smiled.

I remember how gently Grandpa kissed Grandma on her lips.

I remember how Grandma wrapped her arms around Grandpa and rested her head against his shoulder.

I remember Grandma's tears on Grandpa's funeral. I remember her soft sobbing.

Now she's looking at me like a happy smirking cat that has just eaten a whole double cheeseburger without the pickles.

"Terry Gilman didn't elope with Joe. She's in love with someone else. I saw her with him the day before she disappeared. I saw them kiss."

Grandma's grin widens. Half the butterflies in my stomach can't stand the suspense anymore and pass out in a dead faint.

"And the young man looked awfully familiar." Grandma reaches out for a strawberry shortcake doughnut and starts nibbling delicately.

Grandma takes a sip of her Earl Grey.

Grandma nibbles at her doughnut some more.

Grandma starts humming a song.

Grandma puts the doughnut back onto the plate, looks up and holds me captive with eyes as bright and shining as the morning sun.

"I think I will never forget the flaming skull on his forehead even if I get Alzheimer."

Oh, boy.


	22. Far And Away

**Far And Away**

Romeo and Juliet.

Tristan and Isolde.

Hector and Andromache.

Paris and Helen.

Edward Cullen and Bella Swan.

Tall quiet muscular Cal.

Curvy aloof Terry.

Jeez.

Who would have thought?

Somewhere out there, in the deep blue sea, Morelli must be turning in his concrete block...

"See? It's just like Beauty and the Beast. It was not love at the first sight, of course."

Shining eyes. Rosy cheeks. Happy smile. Grandma is having the time of her life.

"His love finally melted the Mafia Princess. She decided to abandon everything just to be with him."

And then that night Joe Morelli came uninvited and let himself in.

He was there to threaten and extort more information out of Terry. Maybe he could even get a quickie if he played his cards right.

He walked in on Cal and Terry.

At first he was beyond royally pissed: There was always a special place in Morelli's heart for his high school sweetheart, the cold-eyed blonde.

But on second thought, he found himself extremely lucky.

Terry was engaged to a big shot mobster from New York City. Like most mob marriages it would be a union based on mutual interests.

If he told anyone what he had seen...Blood was gonna flow. Heads were gonna roll.

Unless Terry was willing to do anything and everything to keep him happy.

Detective Morelli allowed himself a sly happy grin. Oh yeah, his silence would be pricey...

And that was when Cal, the ex-Marine Recon, took a silent step forward and snapped the rat bastard's neck.

The RangeMan clean-up team got there shortly and took care of things.

Terry and Cal waved goodbye to Ranger and his men and disappeared into the night.

She left that note to her mother to mislead the pursuers.

And now Joe Morelli, the ever so ambitious Trenton police detective, is buried somewhere under a brand new building.

"Or maybe they chopped him off and fed him to gators and turtles and fishes and shrimps?"

Grandma smiles brightly at me.

Now all of a sudden she looks like Agatha Christie, the Queen of Crime.

She sure has a most vivid imagination.

She's indeed a sweet, smart little old lady.

She will bring this secret with her to her grave, she says, if I promise to get her the best undertaker in the world and give her an open-casket viewing.

She also wants to have red, red roses at her funeral.

She wants people to say, "Oh my God, she looks like she's still alive!"

She wants her friends to laugh our loud and say, "Oh, that Edna!"

She wants everyone to see the huge smile on her face.

"Of course I will be smiling, child. I'm going to be reunited with your Grandpa! I'm not afraid of death."

Grandma picks up another doughnut and takes a hearty bite.

Is that what happened to Terry? I have no idea.

I finish my 5th doughnut.

I drink my already cold milk tea.

And then I start wondering just how many things Ranger keeps from me...

 


	23. Somebody I Used To Know

**Somebody I Used To Know**

Terry Gilman and I have never been friends.

Together Val and I and Baby Lisa gave poor Cal a mental scar(as well as that huge ugly bump on his concussed shaved head).

Who am I to know their hearts?

Who am I to mind their affairs?

I don't know Terry's favorite color. I don't even know Cal's full name. Their business is not my business.

But still it makes me feel a little hurt and sad.

"The less you know, babe, the safer you are." I can already hear Ranger say.

He will be so calm and serene and almost relaxed. And the matter-of factly-ness in his voice will drive me mad.

I never like to be kept in the dark. I always hate to blindly obey. I know Ranger does everything for a good reason.

I now know where Ranger's family lives. I now know his parents' names. But I also know he still keeps a lot dark secrets.

Will he ever trust me enough to share?

I am no Nosy Parker. I am not a nosy annoyance. I was born with an inquisitive mind. I was curious by nature. It wasn't my fault!

I'm helplessly in love with this quiet private delicious Mocha Latte man.

I hate it whenever he tells me:"Need to Know, babe." in that soft gentle calm assertive tone.

But right now at this moment when I look up and see his bright deep oh so eloquent eyes, I find myself at a loss of words.

I want to tell him how I feel. I want him to know how I feel. I want him to make my self-doubt and insecurity go away.

I need him to forever banish the looming darkness within my heart.

Nope, I'm never a real strong brave fearless smart woman.

I am but a sometimes silly sometimes goofy Wonder Woman-wannabe, I'm afraid.

I always try my best to be brave, smart, fearless, and creative.

But I do have my weak moments.

"Where's Terry?" I burst into tears. Geez. I hate it when I get all emotional. I hate feeling like a stupid freaking fragile china doll.

And I look like HELL when(and after) I cry.

"Is she with Cal? Did they elope?" Great, now my stupid voice cracks like a stupid off tune piano.

"They are somewhere safe."

Familiar subtle heavenly scent wraps around me.

Familiar large warm gentle hands cup my face.

Familiar soft perfect lips find mine.

"She didn't want anyone to know."

Ah, the warmth and the power and tenderness of his embrace...

And his touch of his lips...

All my sorrow and pain and despair forgotten.

I just melt...

Yeah, I know I am a sucker...

So sue me...

 


	24. 99 Red Balloons

**99 Red Balloons**

When shit happens, flush it down the toilet and wash your hands.

"Calm down. Move on. Let go." in Ranger's words.

"Don't let some stupid shit-head morons ruin your day." as Lula said.

Over the years all kinds of crazy demented people have beat me, kidnapped me, burnt me, stalked me, tied a bomb on me, tried to killed me or called me names.

Most of them are still locked inside a jail cell.

Some of them managed to give me nightmares and leave me scars.

Several of them are already dead.

But I am still here. Pretty much alive and kicking. And happy.

Yes, I am happy.

I am happy with my life. I am happy with my choices. I am happy with myself.

I will never be like Lara Croft, Sarah Connor, or Miss Congeniality.

I will never have six pack abs.

I will never be comfortable with guns and knives.

And one-on-one self-defense lessons with Ranger always turn me on and end up with us naked in bed.

Well, not necessarily in our heavenly king size bed...

I will always have flaws.

I will keep making mistakes.

I won't be perfect.

But it's okay.

For the man I love loves me in his own way.

And he doesn't need me to be perfect.

He has helped me out.

He has saved my butt.

He has made my problems go away.

He has seen all my flaws and weaknesses.

He has witnessed all the foolish mistakes I made.

And he loves me for who and what I am.

I have a somewhat shady and troubled past.

I was molested at the age of 6.

At 16 I gave myself to someone who betrayed my trust and humiliated me in the worst possible way.

I persuaded myself to accept the "Boys being boys/It's no big deal" nonsense.

I learned to pretend not to care.

I turned away from my wounds.

I ignored my pain.

I was never healed.

And I never forget.

Hot pink bubble gum flavored condom. Little knobs.

Dark dirty greasy smelly garage. Warm probing fingers. Stifling heat.

Confident smug grin. Hairy naked body. The smell of garlic, cheese, and beer.

Cold hard floor. The humming of the bakery freezer. The hard throbbing heat.

The day I looked him in the eyes and stabbed him through his heart with my silvery cake knife.

The way the boys smirked at me. The way the girls snorted at me. The contempt in their eyes **.** The disgust.

All my nightmares and pain and hurt and tears...

I feel no remorse and no regret for what I did.

My mother has found the most beautiful wedding dress and a real cellist.

I am going to marry my Batman in the coming spring.

I have had my revenge at last.

Real life poetic justice, indeed.

 


	25. Moon River

**Moon River**

I see the look in my sister's eyes.

I think of the life she once had.

She looks cute in that champagne color bridesmaid's dress.

She has lost some weight.

It's my wedding day.

She's married to a kind-hearted but not very clever man.

Has she ever missed the California sun?

Has she dreamed of the Los Angeles air?

The church is lovely.

The reception hall is ready.

The food, the music, and the flowers will be all perfect.

Everything's arranged.

Val looks a bit like a middle aged plus size Meg Ryan.

Her smile is genuine.

Her eyes are sad.

Something tugs at my heart and makes me take hold of her hands.

I make a quick decision.

I'm sure Batman won't object.

I can't pretend I didn't see her longings...

I stand under the Tahitian sun.

I feel a little dazed.

The sound of the ocean is soothing.

The ring around my finger is beautiful and feels cool to my skin.

The man beside me is calm and extremely yummy.

We are now officially married.

The ceremony was simple but sweet.

All our families and friends are still in Jersey.

Val and Albert renewed their vows in front of all the stunned gaping guests.

My father widened his eyes a fraction.

Grandma and the girls clapped their hands.

Ranger's families shook their heads, rolled their eyes, and started smiling.

My mother didn't have a heart attack.

Yep, we eloped at the last minute.

I'd been having nightmares about my second wedding.

I kept blowing up the church and every time I turned to Ranger for help, he was nowhere to be seen.

I could hear his voice in my head but I couldn't find him.

And my stupid glass slippers just wouldn't fit.

"Oh, what the Hell!" I thought as I grabbed hold of Val's hands and told her about the change of plan.

"Oh, Stephanie!" Val laughed and cried at the same time; I squeezed her hand and set out to find the man of my dream.

I barged into the groom's waiting room.

My husband-to-be raised his brow at me.

Oh Lord.

He looked like sin in black tuxedo.

My Hungarian hormones woke up and burst into singing.

All my brain cells melted at the sight of his seductive glory.

"No time to explain. Get undressed." I heard myself breathlessly saying as Tank let out a gasp.

Oh yes, I guess I licked my lips before I wrapped myself tightly around my Batman.

Everything afterwards was like a blur to me.

I vaguely remember releasing my death grip on Ranger's slightly torn open shirt.

I vaguely remember taking hold of his hand and leading him out of the room.

I vaguely remember starting running.

I vaguely remember hearing Ranger laughing.

And then here we are.

Hand in hand. Standing on the beautiful Tahitian beach. Married.

And one day I'm going to give birth to our baby.

No, babies. Don't ask me why, I just know it.

"Mrs. Manoso." The tall dark handsome mysterious dangerous charming cute adorable smart sexy Mr. Manoso smiles at me.

I smile back, stand on my toes, lean in to kiss him, and whisper against his soft perfect lips: "Babe,"

**~The End~**


	26. Epilogue

**~Epilogue~**

**Thriller**

He wakes up in his death.

The burning hunger deep down within makes him growl.

Brains, he craves for brains. Warm, gooey, bloody, fresh human brains.

A walking corpse. A creature of the night. A monster of darkness. A greyish green zombie. That's what he is.

He doesn't feel. He doesn't care. He just wants brains. Sweet, fluffy, pudding-like brains. His sole addiction. His meaning and purpose.

He moans. He groans. He drools. He struggles.

He's forever trapped inside a concrete block.

He's no long handsome. He's still hairy. He no longer smells like garlic, beer, and cheese.

He smells like a zombie.

A large piece of decomposing meat.

He's trapped at the bottom of the sea.

He no longer knows what a cupcake is.

He wants no cupcake.

He wants brains.

Brains.

Brains.

Fresh gooey yummy human brains.

He doesn't care what a cupcake is.

He doesn't care how a cupcake tastes.

He wants no cupcake.

He wants brains.

Brains.

Brains.

"Brains...brains...brains..." He moans and drools and growls, "Yuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuum..."

 


End file.
